


Docile, Composed, Receptive, Faithful

by 0KKULTiC



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Commitment, Cute, Dogs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Lingerie, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Not Cheating, Sex, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, do not let the tags or rating catfish you this is more vanilla than dairy queen soft serve, its mingi, theres a dingus among us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28278981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: Mingi's relationship with Jongho is amazing! More than amazing! After two years together, he's feeling great about their relationship - at least he is until he opens his fat mouth.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Song Mingi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 91





	Docile, Composed, Receptive, Faithful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jonghhho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonghhho/gifts).



> // this is for @jonghhho aka binnie - my secret santa from Writertiny Secret Santa~ props to the admins, thanks for doing this fun event! hope ya like it binnie. merry Christmas!

🎄 **🎅🎁**

It all started on a regular midweek evening in November. Everything had gone per the usual routine Mingi and Jongho had fallen into. Mingi had always been afraid that moving together would cause them to fall apart, but, surprisingly, they acclimated pretty quickly. Sure, they’d had their little tiffs and tensions - however, the couple always seemed to recover, coming out closer and stronger in the end.

That is, until that fateful November night.

The strange thing was that what had slowly started to undo Mingi’s impression of his relationship wasn’t even any sort of argument or lover’s quarrel. Instead, what did him in was an offhanded comment, a thoughtless utterance that may very well have sealed his fate.

Mingi’s phone screen read “11:49 PM” when he finally snuggled up in his sheets for the night. It was a bit early for him to turn in, but work had been grueling of late. The company had put him on their new girl group’s debut just a week prior, and they were expecting the finished product by the new year. He took the slivers of extra sleep wherever he could. 

Jongho wasn’t far behind Mingi - he never was. Actually, he tended to be the earlier of the two, but Mingi’s crazy work hours resulted in the paradigm shift (the first one they’d had in a while). Sometimes, the two wouldn’t even see each other conscious. Jongho would leave early in the morning while Mingi held onto the vestiges of sleep in a vice until rolling out of bed later. More than a few times, Mingi came home to a half-asleep (if not snoozing) Jongho. The unfortunate staggering of their schedules had been increasing of late due to the producer’s workload.

“Hi, baby,” Jongho murmured as he slid into the sheets next to Mingi.

Mingi turned over on his side to face the other, heart fluttering with giddy glee. He still got excited when he saw Jongho - even after two years together. A little grin spread across his lips as he sidled closer to the other.

“Hi,” Mingi stretched his arms out to wrap around the other lazily. Happy contentment bubbled up in his chest as he basked in the other’s warmth. “Another long day?”

“Yeah.” Jongho presses a kiss atop Mingi’s head. “I’m sorry.”

“Mn- For what?”

“Being so late.”   


“I’m late for everything,” Mingi chuckled softly. “Including bed.”

“Still. I miss you. I feel like we see each other less than we did when we lived apart.”

“It’s just a crazy time, Jjong. I love you no matter what.”

That pulled a smile out of the other (and earned Mingi another kiss on top of it).

“Love you, too,” Jongho whispered back.

“Once the new year comes, we’ll debut your girls, then I’m all yours again.”

“Mmm. All mine. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah… Yeah, me too.” Mingi sighed. A yawn stretched through his entire body, leaving him sleepier than before. He truly did miss Jongho. He missed bickering over dinner with him. He missed going to karaoke with their friends. He missed falling asleep on the couch while watching movies. 

He missed all of it.

“In a little bit, this time’ll just be a memory for us, anyway. Not like I’m going anywhere.” Jongho’s eyes shut peacefully, and his breathing started to slow.

Mingi’s heart ached with yearning. He wished he could just cling to Jongho and never, ever let go. Sometimes, when he really thought about it, the amount of love he had for the other scared him. Though they’d already gotten over the hesitance of “I love you” and worked through a handful of rough spots, sometimes Mingi still struggled to believe it when Jongho uttered the words back. Usually, he kept his inner ramblings and idle thoughts to himself, but on that night, Mingi was particularly tired. His mind-to-mouth filter had degraded exceptionally, leaving essentially no buffer whatsoever between his thoughts and his lips.

And so, Mingi, in his tired, lovestruck reverie, uttered something that he could never, ever take back:

“Jongho, d’you think we can take our relationship to the next level?”

Mingi immediately regretted the outburst. He pressed his lips together tightly, praying that the other had already drifted off. There was a part of him that also hoped Jongho had heard, though. He’d been thinking about it for a while. About them. He’s never doubted their love for one another or the strength of their relationship, but all the time apart was unprecedented. It was starting to take a toll on the music producer.

A minute passed in utter, excruciating silence. Mingi very nearly let out a sigh of relief, assuming the other had already passed out. 

“Next level?” Jongho muttered sleepily. “Like marriage?”

Oh fuck. The m-word sets off Mingi’s fight or flight response immediately. Panic rushes over him like a tidal wave, and he chokes over his recovery.

“Uh- No- Not like- I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jongho opened his eyes, alarming Mingi even more. The redhead searched for the other’s gaze before speaking again.

“Mingi, do you wanna get married?”

“What? No. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I mean, like, at all. Just- Just in general. In life.”

“Uh-” The sirens wailing in Mingi’s head were quickly joined by wedding bells. Their chaos nearly deafened Mingi’s own words as he attempted to come back from the abyss he’d leapt into.

So, maybe perhaps he thought that one day he wanted to get married. But that sure as hell was not a conversation he intended to have that very second. He loved Jongho, yes, but marriage? He was in no way ready for that conversation. And yet… It was his fault the word had come up in the first place!

Mingi swallowed nervously, “Ion think this is a conversation for now. I’m tired…”

“But what did you mean?”

“I- I don’t know what I meant.”

Jongho pouted and in so doing delivered another fatal blow to Mingi’s heart. The other’s cute expression sent the brunette reeling. Mingi grasped desperately for words that could maybe somewhat adequately express what had been on his mind.

Mingi started, “I mean- I just- Guess all the time apart makes me wonder what’s next for us. Just… Just wanna be with you, Jjong. That’s all I mean.”

The younger nodded, accepting the answer. Something lurking beneath his eyes told Mingi that the other didn’t completely buy it. He could see little gears turning. Thoughts. He hoped they were good thoughts - or, at the very least, thoughts that the other would soon forget.

However, in the coming weeks, Mingi would start to suspect that they were not forgotten at all.

* * *

Mingi starts noticing things just days after the incident. At first, he wonders if it’s his paranoid mind embellishing on Jongho’s actions.

Because of their hectic schedules, the two have missed a lot of meals together. Thankfully, Mingi’s schedule - as volatile as it is - is also flexible. To make up for it, the two started meeting for lunch when they could. It’s at one of those very lunches - one of the few meals the two can share together - that Mingi starts noticing… Things.

“One of these days you’ll have to hear the guide track,” Mingi chuckles. “I think you’ll be impressed by my pitch-shifted soprano.”

“Yeah?” Jongho laughs.

“I honestly pity those poor girls. I kept trying to get Hongjoong to do the guide track for my songs but he wouldn’t. He’s a bad friend.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes, it is that bad! Jjong I’m not you, okay?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The younger man flushes slightly, his ears matching his dyed red hair.

“Stop pretending to be humble! We are so past that.”

“I- I’m not pretending.”

“Bullshit. You know how talented you are.”

“Mhm.”

“Seriously.”

“Mhm.” Though Jongho’s still got a smile on his lips, his gaze ever so slightly drifts.

“One day, you’ll record with me.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh.”

“What do you think it’d be? A ballad? Something sultry?” Mingi chuckles. When the expected response doesn’t come immediately, his smile falters slightly. He waits… And waits… And waits and waits- sure, it’s probably less than a minute - but the spell of silence feels excruciating. Mingi frowns, following Jongho’s gaze out the window.

The redhead is, apparently, occupied by someone in a trench coat walking a dog. The gentleman is tall and distinguished looking, the belt of the trench cinching in a slender waist. His dog even seems to match him - a slender, elegant breed that matches its sophisticated owner. But, why would Jongho be looking at that person…?

“What are you looking at?” Mingi asks.

“Hm?” The other responds, snapping out of his daze.

“Was there something outside that was interesting?”

“Huh? Uh- Oh, no. Nothing. I wasn’t looking at anything.”

“You weren’t? You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question- I mean- Okay, I was just wondering about that dog.”

“The… Dog?”

“Yeah. Do you think that dog is cute?”

“Huh?” It’s sort of a weird question, Mingi thinks. “I think pretty much all dogs are cute.”

“Even, like, pugs?”

“Well, those ones have health issues, right?”

“Do they?”

“I think so, yeah. Because of their noses.”

“Oh. Huh. So, um, what time are you gonna be home tonight?”

“Huh? Why?”

Jongho’s brows raise incredulously, “Well, last time I checked, we live together. I- I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

“Um…” Mingi purses his lips as he thinks. “Do you want me home by a certain time?”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. I- I was just wondering about dinner.”

“Oh, well, um. I can- hm… I can try to be home by-”

“Don’t. Don’t worry about it,” Jongho chuckles sheepishly. “Just. Just make sure you get rest, okay?”

“I always manage to make my deadlines!” Mingi replies glibly.

“Yeah, well I’m not dating your deadlines. I’m dating you. And I very much like you conscious and healthy.”

Though the other’s tone is reprimanding, Mingi’s heart glows at Jongho’s caring words. He can’t help but grin as the two lapse back into pleasant conversation.

* * *

The weirdness of the interaction doesn't really occur to Mingi until hours later when he's chugging away at work. A sideward glance informs him that it's past eight o'clock which makes him frown.

"Jjong mentioned something about what time I would be..." The producer mutters. He blinks confusedly.

Why would it matter?

"Dinner," he answers himself.

That's right. Dinner. It's a sound reason, except it's not typical for the two to make an event out of dinner. They're usually pretty casual about it during normal months, and with their misaligned schedules, they've sort of given up on it altogether. Jongho is normally the one who ends up cooking and leaving stuff for Mingi. Occasionally, Mingi will make it home for a dinner break and bring takeout, leaving a place setting out for the other once he's done scarfing his dinner down.

So... Why does it matter now? Is there something special going on? It's not their birthday, nor is it an anniversary - at least, Mingi doesn't think it is. When did they decide it's their anniversary, anyway? There's the day of their first date, but they also talk about it being the first day they made it "official".

Someone knocks on the studio door softly, rousing Mingi's attention. The producer startles, jumping a bit as his small coworker strides into their shared workspace. Separate from the recording booths, the two have their own desks in a single office, a veritable spread of soundboards, keyboards, and miscellaneous instruments that mystically made their way into the room.

"What's up, Hongjoong?"

"Oh, you know. Work. Edits. Existential dread. The good shit," Hongjoong replies with a shrug. "I need an aux cable..." He starts rifling through a drawer unit near his messy heap of a desk. "Oh, by the way, I'm hearing whisperings of another track being added to the EP."

"I- You're- I'm sorry?" Mingi sputters with disbelief.

"Yeah. Overheard Yonghwan talking about it on a call."

"Overheard, huh? The walls sure are thin in some places for a production studio."

"Yeah, no shit," The other laughs. "I think they wanna zero in on the girl power concept. One of the members wrote some pretty inspirational lyrics, apparently."

"And we get to compose the song, huh?"

"Yup."

"What are the lyrics about, anyway?"

"Uh... Something about her girlfriends picking her spirits up after she got cheated on."

Mingi frowns, "What is she, eighteen?"

"Seventeen. And you know how kids get more advanced with each passing year. My twelve-year-old cousin had his first break up the other day."

"Your what had a  _ what _ ?"

"Yeah. My mom told me about it. Apparently, things were getting 'too serious' for him."

"Damn."

"Yep. She then proceeded to roast the everliving shit out of me for getting less action than said cousin."

"Nice."

"Yup. She'll get off of my back maybe one day. Maybe." The older man heaves a loud sigh. "Man, can I just borrow Jongho for, like, one family dinner?"

"Hell no. He's mine, get your own."

"But he's, like, perfect. My parents would love him more than they love me. He's all buttoned up and charming and shit- please!"

"No!"

"Ugh, fine. Lucky bastard. Can't believe you of all people are gonna get married first in our friend circle."

"Wh- Wha- M-married?!" Panic flares up in Mingi's chest, cranking his internal temperature up ten degrees.

"Jeez- Calm down, I was kidding! Sorry." Hongjoong laughs in a way that implies he is very not sorry. "It's just that, like- it's been a few years, hasn't it?"

"Two, yeah." The other answers, flushed.

"So...?"

"So what?"

Hongjoong presses his lips together, and his voice gets quiet, "So, you ever think about it?"

"You- You're just like your nosy mother!"

"Wha- Am not! It's just! Natural, okay! It's natural to be curious! I mean- you two have been going steady for a long time, and you live together, too, right?"

"This- this is not appropriate talk for a professional setting!" Mingi sputters sheepishly.

"You're deflecting! Don't talk to me about professionalism. You had me bring you warm milk last week when you wanted to take a midday nap!"

"Naps are crucial to my productivity!"

"Uh-huh. Whatever. I- Oh, here's my cable." Hongjoong tugs at one of the cables from the tangled heap they keep in the drawers. "Oh, dear."

"Yeah, we should do something about that one day."

"One day, but..." Hongjoong gives the cable a few more hearty pulls until its successful excavation from the mound of wires. "Not today! Well then, back to my dungeon."

"Have fun."

"You, too. How late do you think you're gonna stay tonight?"

"Well, um..." Mingi takes a moment to consider. "I dunno. Jongho did mention something about dinner, I think."

"Oh? Is he cooking or something?"

"Uh- I dunno. He just wanted to know when I'd be home today."

"Huh. Does he normally do that?"

"Uh, no. Why?"

"I just think it's funny. Like- Your schedule is crazy.  _ You  _ don't know when you'll be home half the time."

"I guess. Wait- Is that weird?" Mingi's anxiety spikes again. It is sort of unusual for him to ask such a thing. He knows their schedules don't align. Why that day of all days did he ask? Did he have plans? Did he have something to do? He didn't text about something.

"Maybe..." Hongjoong strokes his chin in a dramatic display of thought. "Maybe he's gonna pop the question."

"Kim Hongjoong!" Mingi grabs the first thing he can think of - a stress ball with a happy face on it - and chucks it in the direction of his senior. Hongjoong giggles as he nimbly dodges the projectile. The older man gives a quick wave before skipping away, satisfied.

"Ugh." Mingi pouts.

Pop the question?

Yeah, right. After the awkward thing in bed they had before, Mingi feels reassured that Jongho's not going to do anything like that any time soon. Though he'd never given it much thought before, ruminating on it now, it makes Mingi's stomach turn unpleasantly.

* * *

A few days later, Mingi makes the conscious effort to stay home on a Saturday night. It's not as if the two have grand plans or anything - but, still, it's nice just being in the other's company. They started binging some medical drama about (surprise, surprise) a nurse falling for a doctor. It's stupid as hell, which makes for ideal background noise as they dick around on their phones, gab, eat, and game.

Of course, nights in are good for other things, too. And, though Mingi's been a bit too drained for  _ other things _ of late, a couple of beers can do a lot to smooth the frayed, anxious edges that normally keep him from letting loose. The brunette starts off subtly (at least, in a way he thinks is subtle) by scooting closer to the other.

Jongho had been sucked into some phone game for the better half of their drama marathon. His eyes are laser-focused on his phone while he taps away doing god knows what. Mingi's pretty sure it's some RPG - one of those ones where people grind to unlock hot anime characters. It's unsurprising at first when the other ignores Mingi in favor of his phone screen.

Mingi ever so tactfully slides even closer. So close that their thighs are touching. As stupid as it is, just that contact alone sends a little thrill down his spine. Maybe it's the buzz, maybe it's the fact that they haven't been able to enjoy each other for - oh, no, it's been almost a month. Whatever it is, it makes Mingi more excited than he really ought to be. He places a hand on Jongho's knee and leans over, pressing a kiss on the other's shoulder. Normally, the other would respond with a chuckle or a fond remark of sorts.

Jongho's face scrunches, and he leans away, holding his phone out further - as if Mingi's about to grab it or something.

He might as well have smacked his boyfriend. Though it's a dumb, minimal gesture, it utterly devastates minorly drunk Mingi to the core. His bubble of eager happiness immediately bursts, leaving nothing but a fog of remorse in its wake. Mingi tries not to appear too irritated. These things happen, of course. They're young, distractable - far from perfect human beings, too. Surely he doesn't mean to act like Mingi's affection is an inconvenience. It just. Happens.

The brunette schools his expression into something calm-ish, "What'cha up to?"

"Hm?" Jongho's eyes don't even leave the screen.

"You playing a game? What's so interesting-?"

"Nothing!" The redhead holds his phone close, defensively. His brows furrow with irritation, making Mingi's heart plummet further toward the sorrowful abyss of self-pity.

"Oh." He freezes over, scooching back to his place to give the other the space he (apparently)  _ desperately  _ wants. "Sorry."

"Uh- No, no, you're fine. Sorry, I just- Um- it was the middle of something." Jongho glances at his phone again, tapping a few things before setting it down again. "Seriously, I'm sorry. I- Did you want something?"

"Huh? Wh- No! No, no, I just- just wanted to cuddle up is all."

"Well, here-" The other opens his arms as if he didn't just grimace at the prospect of cuddling thirty seconds earlier. Mingi doesn't like being dramatic, but he also doesn't like being dishonest. Even though it's stupid (at least, he feels stupid), the little incident completely soured his mood.

"Actually, I'm gonna get a snack." He stands up, hoping it'll help clear his head. "You want anything?"

"Oh, um. No, that's fine."

"Okay~" Mingi singsongs, hoping he gives off very unbothered vibes instead of showing his genuine botheration. It's stupid, right? Just a dumb, little overdramatic reaction... Right?

Mingi tries to convince himself as he presses the "boil" button on the electric kettle. There are few problems that instant ramyun can't fix! However, when he returns to see Jongho back on his phone, brows furrowed and gaze intent, he wonders if... Maybe his shitty mood is one of those problems.

* * *

A sweat breaks out beneath the collar of Mingi’s camel jacket as he rushes off of the train. Against all odds, Mingi managed to carve out time for lunch with his boyfriend. With how far away Jongho feels of late, Mingi was determined not to miss it.

But then time sort of got away from him.

Not extravagantly so! Just enough to induce minor panic. Fifteen minutes isn’t  _ too _ bad, right? They  _ have _ been together for over two years. It’s not like this is some crucial first date impression he’s trying to make. 

No, that’s not right.

Maybe being late isn’t a big deal, objectively, but on top of everything else going on between them (and the things not going on), it just doesn't sit right with him. Guilt twists inside Mingi’s stomach, remorseful of his own treacherous thoughts. It’s not okay to devalue Jongho’s time just because they’ve been together for a while! He internally scolds himself and picks up the pace, rushing toward the little restaurant with newfound urgency.

People part on the sidewalk to avoid getting mowed over by the tall man. By the time Mingi throws the door open, any attempt to look semi-cute is completely thwarted. Sweat sticks to his hair while he hunches over to catch his breath. He questions if the pilates he does is really cutting it before scanning the little bistro.

“I need to do more cardio,” he mutters to himself.

“Can I help you?” A hostess approaches him with a bundle of menus in her hand.

“Oh, um. I’m just looking for somebody. He’s probably already here…”

Ever since going red, Jongho has been pretty easy to pick out of a crowd. Mingi doesn’t usually have so much trouble, but, after a minute of looking like a jackass and gawking at the doorway, he still can’t find his boyfriend. He wonders if by some insane stroke of luck he’d gotten there first. Excited by this prospect, Mingi goes ahead and asks the hostess to seat him. He’s given a table by the window which is perfect for him.

Mingi waves away the waiter politely, putting off even drink orders in favor of watching out the window.

The first minutes pass uneventfully. Mingi zones out,half-expecting the other to sneak up on him from behind. He doesn't, though.

After another five, Mingi gets impatient and checks his phone. Their last correspondence is them confirming the meeting, but that was close to nine in the morning. Had he already forgotten?

Mingi shoots Jongho another text and waits. He crumbles and orders drinks - an orange juice for him and an iced americano for Jongho. He sips on his juice, his mood gradually worsening with each passing minute.

“Would you still like to wait to order?” The waiter asks politely about twenty-five minutes after Mingi’s arrival.

The brunette tries not to frown, not to show how utterly devastated he is. It’s stupid, he knows. To be so broken up about a missed lunch. Jongho probably got caught up in work as Mingi himself often does. He’s sent his boyfriend many a late night text informing him he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Still, he can’t help wondering: Is this how it feels? Mingi never had been on the receiving end of it much. He didn’t know it felt so  _ shitty _ . Is this what he’s been putting Jongho through this whole time?

Of course, at least he sent texts or called or  _ something _ . He didn’t just ghost. And usually Mingi didn’t cancel when they were going out in public. Sitting alone with the waitstaff checking up on him, giving him pitying looks, it was  _ humiliating _ .

“Yeah, I think I’ll know what I’m gonna have,” Mingi replies. The second that the waiter is out of the vicinity, Mingi pulls out his phone and sends a few passive and perhaps not-aggressive-enough texts Jongho’s way. When the other still doesn’t answer by the time food arrives, Mingi finds himself dangerously close to livid territory. He tries to dismiss some of it as hanger and shovels the fried chicken he ordered into his mouth.

When he’s very nearly done, Mingi finally decides to call. The idea that something could actually be wrong does cross his mind. It does nothing to soothe Mingi’s nerves, but it would at least count as a valid excuse. Mingi finds himself praying that Jongho is okay as the line rings.

“H-Hello?” Jongho finally answers, sounding a bit… Winded?

“Hey, are you okay?” Mingi asks, fiddling nervously with his chopsticks.

“Huh? What? I’m fine. Why?”

The other’s worry shrivels up in that instant, and in its place, a seed of irritation is planted.

“Well, it’s lunchtime.”

“...And?”

“We were going to eat together. We just texted about it, like, four hours ago.”

“I told you I couldn’t make it.”

“Wha- When?”

“I texted you.”

“Wha-“ Mingi leers at his phone (hoping Jongho can feel his anger through the receiver). He pulls up his text messages to see if what Jongho said was true. It wasn’t. “No, you didn’t.”

“Huh? I’m pretty sure I did-“

“Check your messages.”

“Well, I- oh. Oh… Oh, no. Mingi, I’m so sorry. So you showed up?”

“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I? I thought we were going to meet. You’re always on time.”

“Mingi, I’m really sorry. Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy dinner. Any place you like.”

“I- I’m staying in late tonight.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, uh- one second-“ Jongho’s voice drops off for a moment. Mingi can faintly hear his boyfriend muttering to someone else. “-sorry. I have to go. Work stuff.”

“Isn’t this your lunchtime, though?”

“You know how it can be.”

Mingi definitely can’t deny he’s been there. He is there. In his line of work, one can get whisked away to work on random shit at the tip of a hat. Though he never knew that being a music teacher could be so demanding, he understands that shit does happen. It’s not like Jongho skips out on shit often, anyway. Not nearly as often as Mingi. The more he reflects on it, the more Mingi finds himself calming down. It’s a bit embarrassing, yeah, but it was an honest mistake.

“They’re making you work through your lunch, then?”

“Y-yeah.”

“And you didn’t pack anything, either… Jjong would you like me to take you something?”

“No!”

Okay. That was kind of weird.

“But… Aren’t you hungry?”

“It can wait!”

“It’s no trouble at all. You’ve brought me lunch and coffee before, I-“

“Don’t. I’m fine,” Jongho says sternly. His tone immediately alarms Mingi. He’s being spoken to like a student, not a boyfriend.

“Is there a problem? I mean, I’ll just stop in. Not like it’s a personal call or anything-“

“I don’t want you to go to the trouble. You have lots of work to do, too. I’ll be fine. I keep a stash of protein powder somewhere, I can make a shake. You can help me out by thinking about what you want me to buy you for dinner - okay?”

“Oh, um… O-Okay then-” Mingi’s cut off by a strange noise coming through the phone. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That- That sound- There it is again?” It sounds a bit chattery, but occasionally the strange background kicks up with something higher pitched. Mingi swears he can just barely make out people speaking, though.

“What sound?”

“It’s noisy- are you at work?”

“Why- Why would I not be at work?”

“It’s just- sounds kinda weird is all.” Mingi frowns.

“I work at a conservatory. Someone’s probably just tuning their oboe.”

“O-Oh. Oh, yeah. Duh- Hah- Um, well, see you tonight, then. Love you.”

“Bye.” 

And with that, the line goes dead.

Mingi’s heart sinks, put off by the abrupt ending. He… Must have been really busy. Maybe he’s having a stressful day, Mingi thinks.

Jongho never forgets to say “I love you” back.

* * *

Mingi has trouble finding peace after what he deems “lunchgate”. Without initially realizing it, the couple began approaching some manner of tipping point. All the little problems before lunchgate started out as minor inconveniences, things Mingi wrote off easily with little explanations. He didn’t bother asking for elaboration because, hey, shit happens.

Or so he thought.

Ever since the little lunch incident, Mingi has been noticing those “little” issues more and more. Jongho seems a lot more focused on his phone than anything else. Whenever Mingi tries to drum up conversation, half of the responses are distracted “hm”s and “huh”s. Mingi keeps repeating himself just to get through to him. When he asks Jongho if something is the matter, the other just deflects. If it’s not a “no” in response, Mingi gets a “just the usual” or “it’s work-related”. No elaboration otherwise.

Most noticeable is the air around him. Though it’s not something exactly tangible, Mingi can just tell the other is tense. Jongho seems almost nervous. He gets fidgety and weird - especially when Mingi tries to see what’s on his phone. Plus, he’s been getting home late. At first, Mingi thought it was due to work, but one night - a night where Mingi made a point to be home early - Jongho wasn’t home until after nine, covered in sweat. He’d been logging extra time at the gym, apparently. Been doing it for a few weeks, he said. Mingi had no idea. 

It’s starting to get really worrisome.

Even now, when Mingi’s been on the pause screen of his football game for five minutes, Jongho hasn’t stirred. His eyes are welded to the screen. Is his stupid game that addictive?

“Hey, Jjong?” Mingi asks. He wonders how many times he’ll have to repeat himself before the other answers.

It turns out to be two. 

“Huh?” Jongho responds. His gaze leaves his phone for almost five seconds which Mingi counts as a win.

“What do you wanna do for Christmas?”

“Uh- Christmas?”

“Yes. Christmas. You know that holiday that’s in, like, a couple of weeks.”

“Oh, I- I dunno. What did you want to do? I was thinking of maybe staying in for the day.”

“You don’t wanna do anything?”

“Whatever you want is fine. I thought maybe we’d feel it out.”

“Oh. Well, if we want to go anywhere, we probably have to make reservations soon, right?”

“Uh, I- I guess so.” The younger man shrugs.

Mingi tries not to frown. Jongho seems negatively interested in the Christmas talk. It looks like it’s a bore to him. A lot of things seem to be boring to Jongho, lately. The way he hunches over his phone, face pinched in an almost stressed expression, one would think he’s  _ annoyed _ by the mere idea of talking Christmas. 

Maybe he is.

Bitterness wells up inside Mingi’s stomach, tainting his gut and making his throat sting. He sets down his controller and stretches. He decides he needs to get up - needs to stand up, walk around a bit - just not be near Jongho right now. It’s like they’re sitting under some funky dark cloud. Mingi wonders if he’s hallucinating it or something - it’s just so sudden and so surreal. 

What happened?

He very nearly asks that question directly to Jongho, but a sideways glance toward the other simply shows the picture of occupied disinterest. Maybe later, Mingi thinks. Right now, he can’t stand the idea of asking a question and getting a “huh” in response.

“Gonna get something to drink,” Mingi mutters - more for himself than the other. Thoughts run through his head ranging from minorly annoyed to outlandish. He can’t help wondering if it’s him. Does Jongho have a problem with Mingi that he can’t express? Is he just… Sick of Mingi? Sick of his work hours? Sick of the way he laughs or looks or-

Mingi tells himself to stop before his thoughts get even worse.

The brunette rifles through the cupboards, settling on a worn-out mug that says “FOXY GRANDPA” on it (courtesy of Hongjoong, of course). He sets the water kettle to boil and pulls a packet of powdered cocoa out from their cupboard. While he’s reaching for a spoon, something sitting on the kitchen counter catches his eye.

It’s Jongho’s work bag.

The epitome of class, Jongho totes around a dark leather messenger bag. The thing is heavy as hell, made of real leather, and smells amazing. It was definitely a splurge piece and one Mingi envies endlessly. Though eye-catching as a piece, the bag itself isn’t what caught Mingi’s eye. it’s something inside of it.

Sticking out from the big pocket is something… Red with a bit of shine.

Mingi isn’t the type to snoop for the sake of snooping. He doesn’t like invading other peoples’ privacy or crossing boundaries. But… Well, the little red thing just looks so out of place and strange. What if it’s valuable? It shouldn’t be sticking out like that. Before he knows it, Mingi’s reaching out toward the bag.

His fingers graze the smooth surface of the red thing, and he pauses for a moment. He asks himself: what am I doing? Embarrassed, he sheepishly glances toward Jongho, praying he didn’t get caught.

Unsurprisingly, the other hasn’t stirred in the slightest.

The sight of the other, stationary at his post, reignites the irritation in Mingi’s gut, and suddenly everything Mingi knows about communication and boundaries goes up in flames.

Mingi carefully, delicately, extracts the odd thing. At first, he expected to see a little gift or Christmas card or envelope full of money. As he draws the object out, Mingi’s jaw drops lower and lower and lower until it nearly ends up on the floor.

The red object makes a soft clink sound as it’s extracted from the leather messenger. It takes Mingi a minute to get over the sheer shock of seeing it in its entirety. In his moment of weakness, he’d extracted a red leather collar from Jongho’s messenger bag. Mingi’s cheeks blaze with sheepishness. What was this doing in his bag? It was… Big. Definitely not for a puppy or a cat. No, it could definitely fit a - Mingi feels scandalized just thinking it - a person.

Is this what he’s into?

Is this why he’s been acting so strange?

Does he have a kink that he’s too embarrassed to talk about?

In the wake of his impulse, Mingi gets smacked with remorse. Why, why, why did he do that? He feels like he’s definitely overstepped a boundary of sorts. What if he’s not ready to talk about his… Collar (or collar-related) kink? What if he’s been hiding it this entire time and is afraid Mingi will judge him?!

If only Mingi could tell him that he’s open to almost anything! He’d never judge Jongho for having certain kinks (especially one as vanilla as leather). He loves Jongho and is pretty sure he could get over almost anything to be with him. Why would his boyfriend think otherwise?

Suddenly, Mingi gets a thought:

_ You have to tell him. _

Yes, he convinces himself, that is the solution. He must tell Jongho that he’s down for whatever weird fetishes he has. Or, well, down for most of them. However, in doing so he doesn’t dare reveal that he’d taken the collar out, either. No. That would be disastrous.

Mingi starts by delicately replacing the collar. For once, he’s grateful for Jongho’s obliviousness. He then sidles up to the other slowly. Leaning over the back of the couch, Mingi wraps his arms around Jongho’s neck and purrs in his ear.

“Hi, baby.”

“Aah-!” Jongho - not typically one to startle - jumps.

“Ah- S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“You- You can’t just walk up to- to-“ Suddenly, Jongho’s phone goes flying. Mingi watches the expensive piece of technology soar through the air like a damn baseball, until meeting the far wall with a loud thud. His entire seductive “I’m down for whatever” spiel completely floods out of his head, replaced with complete shock and confusion.

“Babe, your phone-“

“You- You scared me,” Jongho sputters.

“Wha-? You don’t get scared.” Mingi responds confusedly. “Like, ever.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Why… Why did you throw your phone?”

“I did- I did not.”

“It was overhand.”

“Yeah, well, my fight or flight response is- it’s weird, okay? I-“ Jongho huffs. In spite of everything, he looks kind of adorable, lips pursed in a pout and eyes mopey. “Sorry, what did you want?”

“I- I just wanted to, um, I wanted to talk to you,” Mingi tries to get over the strangeness of what just happened. He attempts to smooth his ruffled feathers and get back into the mood. Leaning over again, Mingi pecks Jongho on the cheek, letting his lips graze the other’s ear as he speaks, low and soft. “Can we talk?”

“What about?”

Mingi considers his options on how to approach things. Though he normally considers himself pretty good with words, his compromised sanity makes him end up with:

“I’ve been thinking about… Collars.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“They’re kind of cute, don’t you think?”

“In… What context?” Jongho swallows nervously. Mingi smiles against his skin.

“In the context where you’re putting one around my neck?”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“You- You would like that?”

“Yeah. Only for you, of course. Is that… Something you’d like?”

“I…” The quiet lingers a bit, building up a tensity of a different kind. Mingi nuzzles the other, eagerly awaiting the other’s reply. Warmth washes through his body. He misses Jongho, he’s eager and ready and waiting, and the closer he gets to a breakthrough, the more worked up he finds himself. Though he’s not super into collars, he’s definitely not against them, especially if it’s his hot boyfriend closing one around his neck. Mingi almost tents up at the lewd mental images swimming through his head. After all the strangeness between them, few things seem like a better solution than venting their tensions through sex.

“I never really thought of that,” Jongho answers with a shrug. “I don’t hate it, though. I  _ definitely _ don’t hate it.”

_ “I don’t hate it.” _ He… Doesn’t “hate it”? The happy balloon in Mingi’s chest immediately bursts.

“Do… Do you think my phone screen is cracked?” Jongho asks quietly.

Mingi is pretty sure his sanity is cracked. He releases his hold on the other unceremoniously and sinks down.

“Wait- Shit-“ The younger one mutters. “Mingi I’m sorry, I think you’d look super hot in a collar-“

“Nevermind.” Mingi groans exasperatedly.

“N-No, not nevermind, I-“

“Yes, nevermind. You killed it.”

“But I-“

“Killed it!”

“Okay… I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After taking a couple more seconds to calm down, Mingi finally stands up again. He suppresses a groan when he sees Jongho hunched over his phone. Fuck his phone. Maybe he can stick a collar on that, Mingi thinks. There he was, trying to get a bit of love and affection, foster communication, and what does he get? “I don’t hate it.” It boils him from the inside out. He has half a mind to lay into the other, really tell him how he’s feeling, but-

“Oh, shit,” Mingi murmurs. “It really is cracked.”

He always finds himself distracted.

* * *

“I dunno, what do you think?” Mingi asks with a frown.

“I think Jiwoo is an alto and we should change her part,” Hongjoong grimaces at the monitor between them.

“What? I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about my life!”

“Yes, yes you are, despite my very best efforts to direct you elsewhere.”

“Well! I’ll stop when you actually give me decent input for once! You were super nosy before, now you suddenly don’t want to hear about it.”

“I was joking. Get a therapist!”

“ _ You _ get a therapist. Maybe if you fixed yourself you’d get more action than your twelve-year-old cousin.”

“Die. That’s my advice. Die.”

“Wow, that is, like, the opposite of what a therapist should be saying.”

“It’s probably what some of them are thin- ow! Christ, Mingi! Don’t smack me with your fucking bigfoot hands! Shit.”

“Please, Hongjoong! I know there’s a heart in there somewhere! I’m serious. I- I don’t know what to do. I…” Mingi sighs. “I feel like I’m losing him.”

“Oh, fuck- you are  _ not _ losing him. I’m sure this is all just- just a misunderstanding. What did he say when you told him how you felt?”

“He won’t- he won’t even talk to me. He barely looks at me. He’s just… On his phone. Or, like, in our room. I mean, sometimes we’ll play a few rounds of FIFA, but there isn’t much talking going on.”

“So, after you told him all this, he just… Ignored you?”

“I- Well, I…” Mingi chuckles sheepishly. “Well, it’s not like we… We haven’t had a formal conversation, but-“

“Oh, okay, so you expect him to be, like, a mind-reader. Is that it?”

“I mean, sort of! Is that too much to ask? We’ve been going out for over two years. I shouldn’t have to spell shit out for him! Does it really take a rocket scientist to figure out that ignoring your boyfriend is not nice?”

“Well, no, but he doesn’t even know where you’re at. Maybe he thinks it’s fine because you’re just showing him you’re fine with it.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s not like I’ve been super over the top nice to him.”

“Well, maybe he interprets your moods as you being tired and overworked. Because we are, in fact, tired and overworked. Maybe he wants to give you space.”

“I don’t know-“

“Exactly. You don’t. And he doesn’t know how you’re feeling. Jongho is a really nice guy, and he loves you so much it literally sickens me. So- So just talk to him and be honest. If you just communicate, you two will be fine, I promise.”

“Wow, that’s…” Mingi nods, contemplating the other’s words. “That’s seriously lame advice. You really aren’t cut out to be a therapist, Hongjoong.”

“I give up. Can we please talk about work now?”

“Ugh- Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, good. Now, today we were given some reading material,” Hongjoong reaches for a fat stack of magazines he’d precariously balanced on the sliver of open desk available. He shoves a few into Mingi’s arms, heaping the younger producer with a veritable buffet of trashy teen mags.

Mingi skims the headlines: “IDOL TMI: HOLIDAY EDITION” “SIX WAYS TO STEAL HER LOOK” “QUIZ: WHAT IDOL WILL BE YOUR NEW YEARS KISS?” - simply riveting.

“The fuck is this?”

“We have to study up on what the target demo likes.”

“We’re making music?”

“I don’t fucking know, Mingi. Honestly, I think Yonghwan just likes to torture us for fun, but he outranks me so I kinda just roll with it. Said he wanted the aesthetics of the song to match the visuals and, uh, youth culture.”

“Damn. Do we really have to read this shit? He’s not gonna quiz us on this, right?”

“I dunno. I think he expects us to pull some shit for a moodboard.”

“We’re literally spending our nights here working on this, why would he think we have time for arts and crafts?”

“Like I said: I don’t fucking  _ know _ . All I know is that we do what we’re told. So you are free to question our senior. While you’re doing that, I think I will… Find out who my new year’s kiss is gonna be.” Hongjoong laughs.

“I hope you get JYP.”

“Gross. Just pick one.”

Mingi rolls his eyes and grabs one off of the pile. He’s nearly blinded by the squeaky clean brilliance of the girls on the cover. They’re all so beautiful. He bets those people don’t have relationship issues. Anyone would have to be  _ braindead _ to compromise their relationship with someone that pretty.

Hongjoong passes over a pile of sticky notes to mark pages, and the two of them get to work. They lapse into a comfortable silence, each one slipping on headphones so they can multitask while picking out images and articles. Things go pretty well for about an hour until Mingi stumbles upon an article titled “Signs That Your Man Might Be Cheating On You”.

It’s the type of sensational crap he’d normally pass over, but he recalls the lyrics they’d been given for the song tentatively titled “Skyward”. The basic concept is that the songwriter had been dragged around by her boyfriend and she was crushed upon finding out he’d been cheating on her. There are elements of the Icarus story, and she likened the relationship to wax wings, giving her the illusion of flying high. Her friends helped her go “skyward”, their friendship building “real” wings - something like that. Good for her, he thinks. Mingi rolls his eyes at the article but decides to skim it regardless. Maybe he’ll get brownie points for drawing the connection. There could be something that relates to the lyrics.

_ “1. He’s distracted” _

Mingi narrows his eyes. His chest clenches in an uncomfortable way, tightening as if a fist was closed around his heart. He shakes his head, refusing to let the words even form fully in his brain. There’s a little blurb elaborating, but he ignores it.

_ “2. Less affectionate” _

That’s teen-mag code for sex and he knows it. Of course, there could be a lot of legitimate reasons someone is “less affectionate”. They could simply be tired, stressed, working a lot…

_ “3. He’s on his phone a lot” _

That really could’ve been rolled into number one! Why are they singling out the phone specifically? Is it just a youth thing? Surely just because someone’s on their phone a lot more than normal and they aren’t acknowledging their boyfriend who is right there- that doesn’t mean they’re being unfaithful. They’re probably just playing games. Not talking to someone else. Or looking at pictures.

_ “4. Suddenly caring about fitness or appearance” _

Well, that’s nothing new. Jongho has always cared about fitness. Not that Mingi is applying this to Jongho or anything. That would be paranoid and overdramatic. That would imply Mingi is insecure in their relationship, in himself - and he’s not! His traterious brain decides to remind him of Jongho getting home late, drenched in sweat after a workout. He’s always been into fitness, but he does seem to be going later, doing longer workouts maybe? They say people pack on weight during the holidays. Mingi likes to think that maybe Jongho just wants to counteract that.

Not that he’s thinking about Jongho. Because he’s not.

_ “5. He needs privacy now more than ever” _

Mingi thinks about the phone again. Every time he so much as leans close, Jongho is hunching over it. He’ll face away from Mingi or just lock it. Mingi doesn’t  _ really _ try to see what the other is doing - he’s not an animal - but now he wonders: should he?

_ “6. He’s afraid of commitment” _

Commitment? The only talk they had about commitment was that night when they were in bed.

Then it clicks in Mingi’s head.

That night in bed!

That was the catalyst! The cause of all of this! His stupid insistence, him asking if they’d “take their relatinoship to the next level” or whatever the fuck. That talk of commitment - what if that changed everything? What if that scared Jongho?

Suddenly, the magazine sinks its claws into Mingi. He can’t tear his eyes off of the page, and something he’d been scoffing at just a minute ago turns into the most enthralling read ever. He pores over it, validating his internal doubts and fueling his paranoia. It all sounds like him.

It all sounds like Jongho.

Though Mingi genuinely refuses to believe Jongho would go so far as to cheat, what if… What if Jongho is losing interest?

Maybe he really is losing Jongho?

“No,” Mingi mutters.

“What-?” Hongjoong grunts.

“No, I can’t-!”

“Oh, did you get JYP for your new year’s kiss-?“

“No, I- I have to go. Have to- uh- think about something!” Mingi bursts out of his chair, spilling magazines everywhere as he stomps around trying to gather his things.

“Whoa- You’re not gonna- you’re not gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“This is important, I’m sorry, I- I have to go. I’ll, uh, read stuff online.” He panickedly grabs his bag and coat.

“Er- Okay. Um, text me, I guess- good night!”

“Night-bye!” Mingi shouts before slamming the door to their workspace shut. He powerwalks through the corridors, buzzing with anxiety. He’s been trying to explain it in his head, trying to turn a blind eye, but he can’t anymore.

Jongho is bored. He’s distracted. He… He might be getting over Mingi. Mingi can’t stand the thought of that. He loves Jongho more than anything and he believes that Jongho does love him, too. Maybe just needs to remember why. All the time apart, the weird tensions… Jongho probably just forgets what it’s like to have a boyfriend. They’ve been acting more like passing roommates who share a bed and kiss occasionally, and Mingi needs to change that.

As he trots out the door onto the sidewalk, he heads to the train station. The hit of fresh air is bracing. It shakes him awake and helps him start formulating his “Seduce Jongho Again” plan. Whatever it is, Mingi feels like it needs to be cool, romantic, and most of all  _ sexy _ .

* * *

The juxtaposition between wholesome “Frosty The Snowman” playing over the radio versus the wall of dildos in front of Mingi is jarring, to say the least. His sleep-deprived, frenzied brain cooked up a simple plan that seemed brilliant during his train ride. Few shops are open after nine, thankfully the one he planned to patronize kept exceptionally late hours. And they were having a BOGO deal on butt plugs! Though that wasn’t part of the plan, the pretty ones in the display case are so damn tempting-

No!

Mingi has a plan. A simple plan. One that doesn’t necessarily involve bulbous instruments that resemble Frosty the Snowman himself! It’s a few simple steps really:

Step 1: Ambiance.

Mingi will set the mood. He’ll dim the lights in their bedroom, light candles, put on a fresh set of sheets - the works! He won’t just do it in their bedroom, no. He’ll make sure Jongho is led by a trail of tealights. Is it corny as all hell? Yes. Can Mingi think of anything better at nine-thirty on a Thursday night? No. He figures once Jongho gets into the bedroom, he’ll forget all about the light trail, anyway.

It’s that thought that prompts Mingi to bin the tealight trail idea. He realizes that leaving dozens of tiny candles lit on their floor is a massive fire hazard, but he also hates rose petals. Now that's typical. They’re pricey, too, and die quickly and- okay so. Maybe no trail. 

Mingi actively reworks the idea as he idly eyes the dildo wall.

Step 1 (Second Draft): Ambiance

He will dim the lights and leave the bedroom door ajar, beckoning the other in as he arrives home. 

That’s more like it. Then, Mingi plans on segueing into step two.

Step 2: Seduction

Mingi hopes it won’t be too hard to seduce Jongho. Over their two years together, they’ve had all manner of sex - good sex, great sex, okay sex. It's not a question of attraction in Mingi’s opinion. It’s really just reminding Jongho that Mingi can be attractive. Over the past few months, Jongho has only seen Mingi in work clothes, lounge sweats, exhausted and slightly deranged from listening to the same four seconds of a song on loop all day. Jjong needs to remember that there is another side to Mingi, one that does not live at the studio, one that is hot, and that he is _very_ attracted to.

And that is what brought Mingi to the doorstep of “The Garden of Eden”. (He tried not to chortle at the name as he walked in.) Mingi couldn’t think of any other place he could find sexy lingerie that would fit him well on such short notice. The sex shop immediately assailed his eyes with all manner of sexy clothing and silicon genitalia once he got past the ID check. The shop’s offerings ranged from intriguing to terrifying. The staff was kind of similar. There were a few of them littered throughout, all equally as intimidating and alternative in different ways. Though Mingi sheepishly avoided eye contact at first, his resolve began to crumble as he turned a corner to find  _ more _ butt plugs.

“I wouldn’t recommend these unless you’ve trained up,” A voice speaks to Mingi, seemingly out of nothing.

Mingi, already stressed and skittish, actually jumps, eyes widening when he’s faced with the same employee  _ again _ . The guy’s been popping out from random corners like some kind of an anti-theft magician. It’s scary!

“Uh- I was just- just looking,” Mingi murmurs, cheeks flushing. No, he is  _ not _ interested in shoving a lawn gnome up his ass.

“If you’re looking for plugs, we have some great starters.”

“I’m- I’m not looking for plugs, er-“ Mingi glances at the other’s name tag. It reads “Ren, They/Them”, “-Ren. Thank you, though.”

“What brought you in today, then? Last-minute gift shopping? Shopping for yourself?”

“Uh- It’s for me.” The brunette’s resolve crumbles. These people are hired to help him, after all. They probably encounter all manner of freaks. They probably are freaks. What shame is there in asking them to do their job and help? “I’m looking for- for lingerie.”

Ren’s face brightens, “Oh, awesome! Did you have anything in mind? What do you like?”

“I, um, I’ve never worn it before. I wanted to surprise my boyfriend. Now that I think of it, I’m not sure what he likes, either…”

“Well, even though you want to turn him on, what’s most important is how you feel,” Ren says. For having such a pretty face and sharp features, they’re actually pretty kind when they speak. Not nearly as scary as Mingi expected. “If you’re confident, that’ll show, and it’ll totally turn him on. It’s also important to be comfortable. Unless, of course, you’re looking for something leaning toward submissive leather gear.”

“Uh- N-No, not that. I just want something really… Really pretty. Like a princess. Something different from what he sees every day. Oh- But maybe it should be Christmassy, too. I don’t want it to be too cute, either.”

“Okay, so you wanna dress it up. Princessy. For me, that sort of evokes the idea of, like, lace and ruffles. Maybe mesh. Delicate colors - oh, but for Christmas maybe red?”

“Ah- Yeah, I like red. His hair’s red, too. Wait- would that be weird?”

“Matching your lingerie to your boyfriend’s hair? Trust me I’ve heard a lot weirder.”

“Ah- That’s probably true,” Mingi chuckles sheepishly. He feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when Ren takes the lead. Though he feels a bit awkward, it’s actually comforting for Mingi to have them guide him around. He’s gotta give it to them, they know their way around the product. And, as he starts trying stuff on, Mingi realizes they’ve got a good eye for the human body, too.

After a lot of trial and error, trying stuff he thinks he’d like and figuring out what he  _ actually _ prefers, Mingi walks out with a red number that begs to be ripped off. Ren happily rings Mingi up, giving a wish of good luck before sending the impulsive man off with his new purchase.

Nerves and excitement bubble up in Mingi’s chest. He still has a few stops to make. He needs to plan hair, maybe even a bit of makeup. Then he has to orchestrate the timing so it’s just right. It’ll be fun but, it’ll also be a bit tricky to make sure everything lines up on such short notice. Even so, all the time and thought and panic and money spent, everything, it’s all worth it for Jongho.

That’s what Mingi wants more than anything.

* * *

Maybe lingerie was a mistake.

Maybe the entire idea was a mistake.

Maybe life was a mistake.

All of these thoughts run through Mingi’s head as he contorts his body every which way to strap himself into the red piece he bought. Ren made it look so easy. Now, Mingi finds himself on the precipice of death, undone by nothing but a few slivers of fabric.

Days after his impulse purchase, he’s setting the scene. Or, well, trying to.

Every other piece is in order. Mingi has dimmed the lights. Lit candles in the bedroom. He even splurged on those special smelly salts one throws into the wash so their sheets smell amazing. If the whole seduction thing doesn’t work out, at least he can wallow in a cozy duvet that smells like honeysuckle.

He texted Jongho that he would be late at work - the perfect lie to lull him into a false sense of security so he’s pleasantly surprised. Jjong said he had some errands to run and he’d be home in the evening. “The evening” is Jongho code for six, and it’s almost a quarter-til. That means Mingi has fifteen minutes to assemble the final piece of the puzzle: himself.

After putzing around in the bathroom on his phone for a while, he gave himself the works, trimming stuff that needed to be trimmed, plucking, applying makeup, and styling his hair. All that was left was the stubborn ass lingerie which, in hindsight, was an ambitious choice. Oh, how he wished his past self heeded Ren’s advice of “if you can have a friend help you, do it”. Unfortunately, Mingi’s hubris made him scoff at the prospect of assistance. (Also, Hongjoong refused to help him get ready - rude!)

The red piece is really more straps than anything else. There are a few mesh panels, one to cover the crotch, a triangle over each nipple. The straps on his hips also have little ruffles on them that almost create the effect of a skirt. The garter came separate, but Ren totally upsold him on matching thigh highs, and while it’s a pain in the ass to wear, Mingi has to concede: he looks pretty fucking good. The only hangup is actually securing the hooks in the back.

Mingi waddles back into the well-lit bathroom and tries using the mirror to help himself. His arms tangle in the stretchy, sheer fabric. They twist in ways he really thinks they shouldn’t, and the straps dig into his skin uncomfortably. Somehow, after considerable effort and very unsexy grunting, Mingi manages to clasp the hooks, and everything falls into place. He wonders if it’s a slutty Christmas miracle or just the sheer will power he possesses. Whatever it is, he’s grateful, because time is running out.

“Okay,” Mingi whispers to himself. He checks his reflection again to assess the state of things. Thankfully, the sweat he’d worked up didn’t affect his smokey eye. His hair managed to stay intact, too, swooping over his forehead prettily. He fusses over a few stray strands before giving up. It is what it is. His hair will fall where it falls.

Everything is in place.

The mood is set.

He is ready.

Now, he waits.

Even though it’s only ten minutes to six, that ten minutes might as well be a lifetime to Mingi. He shifts around on the bed, experimenting with different positions. He’s going for something that says “come hither” - but in a classy way. At least, as classy as one can say “come hither” while wearing straps and mesh thigh highs.

When he finally finds something comfortable, Mingi’s gaze shoots down to his dick. Should it be hard or soft? A full-on boner probably won’t fit in the panties - then again, they _are_ stretchy. The whole peekaboo thing could be a look, too. But then what if things take long and he blueballs himself? Maybe it should be a half. Can he even get it there with how much he’s overthinking? Mingi starts palming himself roughly, trying to surrender a bit so his dick has some life. That’s when he hears a noise.

Mingi freezes, and everything goes quiet. For a second, all there is to hear is the soft whirr of the heater.

Then there’s another sound. 

A soft clink followed by a click. 

The door.

Mingi’s heart races, nerves and excitement jumbling together in his chest. He jolts back into his seductive position with haste, ready. Just as he parts his lips, ready to beckon his lover like a siren would a sailor, Jongho says something.

“Shh- Shh- Be quiet,” Jongho’s voice is soft. But… He’s alone? Why is he speaking like that? “Nobody can know you’re here, okay?”

Nobody can know who is here?

Mingi’s heart drops into his stomach.

Another soft noise comes out from beyond the bedroom door. It’s difficult to decipher. Not words. Almost a whine?

“Shh- C’mon, this way,” Jongho sounds like he’s ushering them. “Come on baby.”

The butterflies that had been fluttering around in Mingi’s chest drop dead in that instant. He’s pretty sure a sledgehammer to the chest would hurt less than the pain slamming his body right now.

No.

This can’t be.

No. 

Just no.

He was going to get Jongho back.

He was going to show Jongho his sexy side, make him fall in love again.

“Ah- Don’t be like that,” Jongho giggles - he  _ giggles _ . When’s the last time Mingi made him giggle? He can’t even remember. “You’re so silly.”

Mingi feels sick.

“Oh, baby,” Jjong coos sweetly, lovingly at the other person. “Baby let’s go~”

He’s frozen, welded onto the bed. The utter shock keeps him stuck in place even though he wants so badly to do something. He wants to cry or shout or jump out, but he can’t. Why can’t he?

“Sweetie,” Jongho says dotingly, “I already took you out. You should be ready to go to bed now.”

Go to bed? As in the bed they share? The one that Mingi painstakingly cleaned and prepared and prostrated himself on for Jongho? For their relationship?

The tether that kept Mingi still snaps, and he rushes out. With tears stinging his eyes, he throws the bedroom door open. Gnarly, nasty words come to mind as he marches down the hall to the entry. So many strong emotions, regrets, sadness - he wants to throw all of it at Jongho. He wants to lay into the other and really say how he feels. Through his bleary vision, Mingi can just barely make out the blob of his boyfriend hunched over someone. 

Mingi moves motivated by feeling and nothing else.

“You’re home?! What are you-?”

“You- You-!” He grabs a fistful of Jongho’s coat and throws him off of the other. “I can’t believe you’d bring home some- some- some random bitch!”

_ “Woof!” _

Like sunlight beaming through parting clouds, at that moment, that “woof” shines bright and clear, illuminating all.

For an instant, everything freezes. The tears in Mingi’s eyes fall, and in their wake, he can clearly see the scene before him.

Jongho stares at him, wide-eyed and mildly horrified. His mouth is stuck in a little “o” shape as he leans against the nearby wall because he did get thrown by Mingi. Standing beside him is the aforementioned “bitch”. They are… Shorter than Mingi anticipated. Much shorter. They are also quadrupedal and covered in fur.

They're a dog.

It's a dog.

Mingi damn near got himself a true crime documentary because Jongho brought home a dog.

Mingi sniffles, “Wh-Wha-?”

_ “Woof! Woof!”  _ The pup - a rather cute mix of sorts - greets Mingi, tail wagging. It approaches Mingi and sniffs his hand, completely uncaring about the situation at hand.

“Guess you’re not much of a guard dog, huh?” Jongho mutters.

Mingi would normally laugh at the joke. At the moment, he’s content to let it sit - and to let the dog sniff him. His eyes widen when he gets a look at its neck. The dog has a collar. A red leather collar.

Could it be…?

“Um, can- can I go first?” Jongho says softly, still a bit spooked.

“Y-Yeah, um- wait- but first I- Jongho I’m sorry-“

“No, it’s okay. It’s okay, um-“ The redhead coughs awkwardly. He stands up straight and dusts himself off before getting a good grip on the pup’s leash. “M-Merry Christmas?”

“Can- can we sit down?”

“Yeah, let’s sit down.”

The two move to the nearby couch, keeping a safe distance between them. Mingi has heard of the stages of grief, and he wonders if the same principles applied to shock. He’s fairly certain he’s experiencing the “denial” part right now. Part of him thinks he’s dreaming. Maybe he knocked his head while trying to get his strappy lingerie on and this is all a dream.

“I- I’m sorry-“ Jongho blurts out nervously. He fidgets with the dog’s leash and struggles to maintain eye contact. It’s so strange seeing Jongho this nervous. Mingi can’t remember the last time he’s seen his boyfriend so unsure. Maybe when they exchanged confessions or shared their first “I love you”s. “Can- Can I explain?”

“Of course,” Mingi nods. 

“W-Well, um, this- this girl right here is Sunny,” He pets the dog, and she wags her tail in response. “And- Well, I- I should start from the beginning. Look, I- this is stupid and impulsive, fuck-“

“No, it’s not. Please, just talk to me,” Mingi replies. “Please.” It feels like it’s been so long since they’ve had a decent conversation. He doesn’t just want this. He needs this. They need this.

Jongho takes a deep breath and nods before continuing, “Okay, well. Um, about a month ago - give or take you- you said something while we were laying in bed.”

Oh no. Mingi was hoping he’d forgotten that by now. He _knew_ it. He knew he’d scared the other away. Mingi frowns but lets the other keep talking.

“You said something about our relationship,” Jongho says. “About taking it to the next level. And I- I kinda didn’t know what the next level was. Like, we live together and I… To be honest, um, marriage feels like a leap. And maybe it always does, but- but I want to keep taking steps with you, Mingi. I love you, and I’m not ready to go all the way, but I knew whatever the ‘next thing’ was, I wanted that with you. Uh- Want. Present tense.”

Mingi’s heart swells. It had been shattered just minutes earlier, but with each beautiful, kind, loving, nervous word out of Jongho’s mouth, he feels another piece mend.

“I want that, too,” Mingi’s voice comes out almost a whisper for some reason. Tears sting his eyes again, but this time it’s not because he’s hurt.

“So- So I, um, I thought we could- we could get a dog-“ Jongho waves to Sunny animatedly. “I just thought, hey, everyone loves dogs! But they’re also a responsibility and they’re companions and they’re part of a- f-f- part of a family? Kind of? Unit?” 

Mingi can see the utter panic in Jongho as he speaks. He can hear the waver in his boyfriend’s voice and the sweat collecting on his brow. It’s so sincere and utterly adorable. Even though Jongho just said he’s not ready for marriage, Mingi has half a mind to propose anyway.

“Um, I- I kind of agonized over the decision. And I got really anxious and nervous and I wanted it to be a surprise. But then I started searching and holy fuck is it a _nightmare_ to adopt this time of year. Fucking hell. I’d fucking- I’d see a puppy online and I’d call and it was already adopted. I started, like, stalking websites- it was _not_ a game. The game was fucking. Pet Adoption Hell Simulator. That was the fucking game. And, like, I didn’t want to bring a creature into our home without meeting it, so sometimes I’d be out later or take lunches to meet dogs and, like, honestly I’m glad I did. Some of those dogs are fucking catfishes let me tell you. And- And then I met Sunny. Um- I- She’s, well, she’s a mix. They think she’s akita and golden retriever. Something spitzy - whatever that means.”

Mingi nods. He can see it. Golden, fluffy fur but floppy ears and a curled tail. She’s a good size, too. Medium-sized, he’d call her. Not too big, but not so small he’d be afraid of breaking her, either. As reality dawns on him, he starts getting excited.

“Wait, so Sunny is our…?”

Jongho nods, “Yeah she’s- she’s amazing. Um, the thing is, well- she’s healthy, but, um- well- please don’t be too bummed-“

“I- I don’t think I ever could be. She’s super sweet.”

“Well, she, um- all the puppies were getting snatched up like crazy. And I went to meet a pup and actually met her, too and she was so sweet. She’s actually seven, but, um she’s really healthy. Vets say she has a lot of good years left! And trust me, she is, like, a dog. She likes to play and really liked walking around. Honestly shocking that someone would let her go. I- I hope you don’t mind.”

“Wh- What the hell would I mind?”

“Well, everyone loves a puppy and all that…”

“She’s perfect. Right Sunny?” The dog rouses at the sound of her name, head tilting. “You’re perfect, right girl?” Her tail wags happily. “She’s a perfect little fur baby, and her forever home is with us! Yeah, that’s right, girl. That’s right.” Mingi scoots closer so he can pet her. Sunny’s presence combined with the truth coming out does wonders for Mingi’s nerves. It’s like he got smacked with a surprise therapy session. In just minutes, the wrinkles creasing his life got ironed out. 

“Fuck, I’m glad I got that off my chest,” Jongho heaves a sigh of relief. “I wanted her to be a surprise tomorrow morning but, well…” He eyes his boyfriend up and down, brows arching with interest. “Seems like you’ve got a story to tell.”

“I- I’m sorry,” Mingi replies. He frowns. “Fuck, Jjong, I’m so, so sorry. You spent all this time being a literal  _ angel _ and I- I just thought that… I was afraid I was gonna lose you. I thought I scared you away, and I was too afraid to talk to you. I- I had too little faith in you. And then I heard you coming in and making sweet talk with- well, I thought it was someone- I just- I lost it. Fuck, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry-“

“You didn’t hurt anything. I’m sorry.”

“I bet I’m sorrier.”

“No  _ I’m _ sorrier,” Jongho jokes. He presses a kiss on Mingi’s cheek and gives him a sweet smile. “You know what’s rad about adopting a grown-up puppy?”

“Hm?”

“They’re crate trained.”

“Oh, she is? Nice.”

“Yep! Gonna put her to bed until later, okay? Then, I wanna continue this conversation.”

“Okay,” Mingi smiles. He bids Sunny a good night (or good evening nap, he doesn’t know dog schedules) before dragging himself back to bed.

* * *

“Fuck, I’m so embarrassed,” Mingi pouts into his pillow. He feels humiliated and completely ashamed. He can’t believe he assumed the worst of Jongho. His pride and emotions stopped him from being a reasonable fucking human being and communicating, which makes it worse. 

“This is my fault,” Jongho says. “I tunneled in on finding the perfect present so much I let our relationship fall to the wayside.”

“I should’ve just talked to you, though.”

“It’s a two-way street. If I wasn’t such a shitty boyfriend, you wouldn’t have thought that I was being unfaithful.”

“Yeah, well, at the end of the day, you get to reveal yourself to be a puppy-saving saint. I’m just the jackass with bad communication, anger issues, and lingerie.”

“You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah, thanks. Nearly fucking died putting it on. Now, if you could help me take it off so I can relax, that’d be great.”

Jongho chuckles softly, “No.”

“I-“ Mingi sits up, brows furrowed. “No? No what?”

“No. You’re keeping this on.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Jongho moves closer to the other, reaching out to cup Mingi’s face with his hand. His smile is sweet, but the darkness lurking beneath his eyes sends a chill down Mingi’s spine. “I’ve been such a shit boyfriend. I haven’t paid enough attention to you, Mingi, and I’m so, so sorry. You are so beautiful. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

He leans in, and their lips meet. Sparks light in Mingi’s veins, fireworks bursting in his chest. Even after years together, the fact that he can still feel like this reminds him of how  _ real _ what they have is. In spite of misunderstandings and miscommunications, they can endure. They  _ will _ endure. And while Mingi could ruminate on how they’ll come out stronger in the end and all that shit, at the moment, he’s more occupied with the prospect of make up sex.

He hums happily against the other’s lips as they collide again. It’s heated but not rushed. They savor one another, a familiar, favorite taste, tongue on tongue, skin against skin, feverish hands leaving goosebumps in their wake. The words “I love you” drop from their lips, saccharine and always, always sincere. Drenched in the scent of honeysuckle, the two bask in one another’s warmth after coming down from the throes.

This, Mingi thinks, this is bliss. Though he doesn’t know what the future holds, he knows that he doesn’t want it if Jongho isn’t beside him.

* * *

Mingi stirs at the sensation of something wet and warm on his face. 

“Mn…” He groans, grimacing as consciousness dawns on him. The feeling of it, the soft click of metal, something about this wakeup call is different. “Mhhh-“

“Good morning,” Jongho singsongs, entirely too awake for the hour. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merr… Chrimus…” Mingi slurs out. “Merry Chris, Sunny.” He can hear the pup’s tail wagging.

“Come on, get up. We need to take Sunny out for her first walk as a unit.”

“Can’t she take her walk in, like, an hour?”

“You cleaning up the mess? Come on. It’ll be fun. This is part of the next level.”

“Mnnn…” Mingi groans sleepily.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that, so…”

Suddenly, the wonderful, miraculous scent of spiced coffee wafts through the air. The mere smell of coffee invigorates Mingi anew. After considerable effort, Mingi manages to sit upright. Jjong offers him a steaming hot mug as if in congratulations for the accomplishment.

“Thank you, baby,” Mingi says, leaning in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Merry Christmas,” They kiss another few times before parting. “Merry Christmas, Sunny.”

The couple (and pup) take a few minutes to relax before taking to the chilly winter air for their big debut. Mingi’s heart glows, almost overflowing from pure goodness. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Jongho or Sunny or the apartment they share or any of it, but he’s thankful. So, so thankful.

He’s a little less thankful that he’s getting out of bed in the morning, but that’s part of the “next step” the two of them agreed to take. Sunny’s totally worth being up at any hour of the day, anyway.

“You ready?” Jongho asks as they approach the door. He looks Mingi in the eye and smiles warmly. There’s a weight behind his words, something with heft that goes beyond the morning’s walk.

“Yeah,” Mingi says. He takes their dog’s leash in one hand and Jongho’s hand in the other.

🎄 **🎅🎁**

**Author's Note:**

> // merry chrysler
> 
> fun fact: original name was gonna be named after a dumb song "el baile del perrito" lmao. instead i looked up "akita breed characteristics" and the first words google came up with ended up being the title!
> 
> big ty to vilde for beta-ing!


End file.
